


Grand Gestures

by lonestarbabe (neverfeltlesscool), Pigeonsplotinsecrecy



Category: 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)
Genre: Drug Use, Gen, Heartbreak, Love, M/M, Overdose, Protect TK Strand, Suicidal Thoughts, TK Strand deserves love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:21:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22335475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverfeltlesscool/pseuds/lonestarbabe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy/pseuds/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy
Summary: T.K. thinks that a grand gesture will save his relationship, but then, he's left heartbroken, wondering what exactly he did wrong.
Relationships: Owen Strand & TK Strand, TK Strand/ Alex
Comments: 9
Kudos: 82





	Grand Gestures

Grand gestures— weren’t those what relationships needed to stay alive? Jumping into the ocean for the man you love, marrying him in front of four-hundred people, buying him a hundred roses, pushing him out of the way of an oncoming car, or promising to love him until death do you part— weren’t those the grand gestures that made love so special and exciting? Wasn’t it acts of heroics and bravery that separated love from like? T.K. had seen plenty of romantic movies and in those, love always had to be established by acts of near insanity, grand gestures that proved one person would do anything for the other.

Wanting to make a grand gesture of his own, T.K. figured a sparkly ring with just the right mix of sleek, silvery lines and diamond encrusted flashiness would prove his love for Alex, who had always responded to glitzy gifts and romantic escapades stolen from rom com scenes. T.K. wanted to spend his life with Alex, who had become something to cling onto when life got hard, and T.K. couldn’t imagine spending his golden years with anyone else. He’d imagined them in rocking chairs, watching as grandchildren played and children smiled proudly on at the youngsters.

T.K. couldn’t list all the things about Alex that made his heart flutter in delight. He loved the way Alex smiled, never in half and always with his teeth on full display, and he loved the way Alex pressed soft kisses into his skin, tracing more than imprinting. He loved how Alex made him feel complete. He loved that Alex didn’t see him as broken. He loved that Alex saved him from a life of agonizing drudgery.

A romantic at heart himself, T.K. would show Alex that he was ready for domestic bliss. A ring— infinite, precious, and light— would ease the detachment that still existed in their lives. They didn’t even live together yet, but marriage would fix that and ease the separation of lives that made T.K. yearn for more. He wanted someone to wake up to, make breakfast for, and fill the loneliness he still sometimes felt. He wanted someone to be his everything, and maybe it wasn’t healthy to put so much on one person, but he wanted that all encompassing love that could distract him from the demons trying to break loose in his brain.

Thinking back on it, Alex had been acting off lately, but it wasn’t like they had been fighting. T.K. couldn’t remember any tense moments in the last few weeks even. Smiles and kisses were still frequent, and sex was tender. Things between them had been cordial, maybe too cordial, cordial in a way that shouldn’t exist between people who are in love. They were acting like everything was perfect when they both knew that even in the movies, no couple could be perfect because the joy of romance is the bumps in the road and the process of discovering each other’s flaws and learning to love them.

The goal of a relationship is to bring out the best in each other, but in the last few weeks, Alex and T.K. had brought out each other’s façade, the watered-down, pseudo-content parts of themselves. Wanting to cling onto the relationship, T.K. had deluded himself. He had mistaken dancing around each other for dancing with each other. He’d imagined that their relationship had been so calm, apathetic almost, simply because they were in sync, but Alex hadn’t been dancing the same dance. He’d been dancing with someone else, and the thought made T.K. feel used and foolish. He’d shown Alex parts of himself that no one else saw while Alex was still hiding. Vulnerability when it wasn’t mutual was a sharp knife.

He’d felt shitty after the failed proposal, of course he had, and the subsequent breakup had been worsened by thoughts of what he almost had. T.K. felt unwanted and unloved. What other way was there to feel about being your first choice’s second choice?

He’d gone back to his apartment and stayed up all night, thinking about how pointless life would be without Alex. He thought about how bored and depressed he would feel. He needed an escape or an out, and as he took a handful of pills, he decided to let fate decide which to give.

Then, his dad was there, the person who had seen T.K. through relapses and overdoses several times before. T.K. had thought he’d kicked his addiction, but he had gotten complacent in his recovery. He knew better than anyone that being sober, even if it had been years since he’d last taken anything, never stopped requiring effort. He hadn’t cared much about breaking his streak of sobriety when he’d taken the pills. It had been startlingly easy to convince himself to take them. Maybe it was because, in his, heartbreak he had no commitment to being alive, and if you weren’t alive, sobriety didn’t matter.

After T.K. awoke, vomiting over his floor, his dad pulled him into a hug, eyes filled with fatherly warmth and fatherly terror. T.K. was a mess, but his dad didn’t seem to care. Owen Strand was just glad that his son was alive, relieved that today wouldn’t be the day T.K. was lost to him forever. Owen had lost enough people in his life. T.K. was still so young. Not even thirty, he still had plenty of life to live.

It was a brief hug before T.K. was wheeled away, but it made all the difference to both father and son. Maybe grand gestures didn’t make for strong relationships, after all. Maybe it was the microscopic gestures that made the difference in relationships, the invisible acts that couldn’t be seen but could be felt. True love wasn’t the shiny veneer, the grand proposal, or heroics. It was cleaning the dirty dishes piling up in the sink. It was morning breath kisses and home improvement projects. It was midnight tears and lingering fears. It was medical appointments and goodbyes. It was lightheartedness and heartache but not heartbreak because true love can’t leave you irreparably shattered. It was comfort amid chaos. It was a relieved hug and tough love after an overdose. No, love was not the grand gestures. It was the dirt, horror, relief, and joy. It was the monotony made tolerable by knowing another and being known.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've barely had the show but I really wanted to write something about it. Hopefully I'll get even more inspiration as it goes on. Let me know if you liked it. Thanks for reading. Also, check me out on tumblr at lonestarbabe.


End file.
